Names
by Morbid Muse
Summary: Willow thinks about her new name, old life, and friends' death.


Title: "Names"  
  
Author: Amandab9@aol.com  
  
Rating: R  
  
Shipper: mention of past Willow/Buffy  
  
Summary: Willow thinks about her new name, old life, and friends' death.  
  
Disclaimer: I sadly do not own them. Joss and everyone over at UPN still gets to have their fun – for now!  
  
Warning: This story contains character death and mention of f/f intercourse.  
  
  
  
I once was told that you could tell a lot from someone's name and I really believe that they were right.  
  
Look at my name; Joan. It isn't the name I was born with, of course, but none of my current "friends" know that and probably never will.  
  
Joan. Simple, common, and nothing like my old life. Nothing like my life with HER.  
  
She took over everything during that time. When I needed a new name I knew I wanted something usual, something easy to blend in with. Something that wasn't Buffy or Anne.  
  
Joan didn't come to me immediately. At first I was thinking of becoming Jennifer, Alexandra, or Jessica. I wanted something to remind me of what will always be home but I had to say it without bursting into tears. Jennifer would have me crying over the terrible way my old teacher died at the hands of a sometimes-friend. Alexandra would find me brawling over my long time best friend, Alexander La Ville Harris, who died from his own hands. Jessica would remind me of my oldest life, the one it takes the most effort to remember. The life before the weird was normal, before HER, it would be the first death that touched me. My dear Jessie.  
  
Of course, Joan was HER too, but it wasn't. I remember the spell I cast and how terribly wrong it went. We all lost our memories and Buffy had to re-name herself. She chose Joan even though it was the opposite of what she is. Was.  
  
She was strong, unique, proud, and fought for good hard enough to get her killed three times. And she was my first love.  
  
The funny thing is, the first time I saw her I didn't like her. Even though we spent six and a half years as friends, and sometimes lovers, when I first saw her I was jealous.  
  
I hated how her perfect blonde hair – which I would later delight in running my hands through – gleamed with the 'in' style that I could never possess. I hated how her clothes were cool and fit tight but didn't make her look at all like a slut. But mostly I hated how best bud Xander noticed all these things instead of me.  
  
She was my first, but I wasn't hers. It was during the night Angelus had been sent to hell. She showed up at the glass door that leads to my bedroom. I had just been released from the hospital and still had a lot of bruises and scars but, even with only one visual cut, Buffy looked worse than I did.  
  
I let her in and she cried for a long time. Not once during her sobs did she mention that Angelus had gone back to Angel right before going to hell or that she had a packed suitcase waiting outside for her to leave as soon as she was done with me. I didn't find these things out until much, much later.  
  
While she was crying I just held her. Suddenly, she looked up at me and the sight of her beautiful eyes filled to the rim with tears almost made me cry with her. She leaned forward all the way, shut her eyes, and kissed me right on the lips.  
  
I thought about Oz, who was being nothing but supportive to me. But thinking of Oz made me thing of how much better kissing Buffy was than kissing him so I stopped. Besides, if I dwelled on that I would begin to feel guilty and right now all I was to busy and happy to think about cheating on loyal boyfriends.  
  
She didn't open her eyes the entire time. Never said my name, even though I was repeating hers over and over, trying to stay quiet so my parents wouldn't wake up. But I didn't mind her mental distance, I never did. Despite the fact Buffy would repeat the same closed of manner every time whenever she felt too hurt or frail, that she never talked about us, and that she was "straight"; I still let her come cry to me and use me a lot over those remaining four years.  
  
Her death was slow and painful. A demon had infected her with something extremely toxic to humans. There was no cure that we could find, even with Giles' help, and after her half-hearted fight against death for three days, she died in her bed. Dawn refused to go back in that room for the rest of her time living in that house. Until her father suddenly emerged and decided he could fit her into his new life. He never did apologize for not coming to Joyce or Buffy's funeral…  
  
Giles went back to England the first chance he had but I can't blame the poor guy. Every time her is in America he gets hurt. Anya had completely disappeared after her almost wedding so we couldn't find her to invite her to the funeral.  
  
Xander couldn't take it. He had lost Anya and Buffy in a span of a month. Then Xander lost his job because of cutbacks and with him taking so many days off; he was at the top of the list. After a while of depression and cutting himself off from the rest of the world, suicide seemed like the best option.  
  
I just had to leave Sunnydale. It was than when I first understood why Buffy left for the city after our first night together. However, she made a mistake by going to a packed city. I went to a small town in Maine where no one working in Angel Investigations has found me yet. I know Cordelia, Wesley, Angel, and others who I met once when Buffy died the second time are looking for me. I know they have been for five years now.  
  
The ironic part is that the last time I was in Sunnydale - right before I left physically, although mentally I had been planning my escape for a while – Tara and Spike were the only ones left fighting evil. It's funny that Tara - who was never really a Scoobie, or at least not an original one - and Spike - who used to be the Big Bad - are the ones saving the world on a regular basis.  
  
"Joan Autumn Rednax! I've got a surprise for you!" calles Danielle, my current girlfriend. She uses my full name and you can tell how much I miss home from it.  
  
You can tell I miss Buffy and Dawnie and Joyce because I thought of their last name, Summers, and changed the season for my middle name. You can tell I miss Xander because if you flip my last name you'll find his nickname.  
  
You could also tell I miss Oz. Not from my name, but hers. Daniel Osborn will always hold a place in my heart as well.  
  
Like I said, you can tell a lot by someone's name.  
  
  
  
=(Amanda(= 


End file.
